The Tribe Unmourned
by SadameHime
Summary: He honors blood of the tribe unmourned. He eats their sin, and is reborn. His mercy frees the cursed false gods, Binds the broken, redeems the mad. What mercy is there and what sins atoned when there is only death? One man cannot do these things alone.
1. 1: Arrival

_So in honor of the tenth anniversary of Morrowind, I decided to revisit an old classic and came across some lovely gems in the mod community. The story you are about to read will closely follow the Great House Dagoth mod, which I've come to greatly admire, but with a little twist of my own here and there._

_Dream sequences will probably be included in each chapter, as I feel like they will be very important for both of the characters introduced in the first chapter. I intend to at once paint a picture of the First Council and the Nerevarine's journey. We'll see how that goes. _

_Thank you for taking time out of your night to read my brain crack. Reviews are always appreciated._

* * *

The dreams began when he was a child. Alammus Arendu long knew the names Nerevar, Vivec, Sotha Sil and Almalexia before his Dunmer parents ever considered educating him on the history of the Tribunal. Though he was not their biological child, they educated him like a son of Great House Redoran. His childhood consisted of sparing matches with his father and sessions of book learning with his mother who spent a lot of time proving and disproving the dreams Alammus had regarding the Tribunal. He would grow up to become a great warrior, and if his generous parents had taken him to their homeland, he would have been welcomed in their House. Perhaps if they had returned home, he would not have wound up in the situation that landed in in the Imperial Prison.

Imperials remarked to him all the time about how racist and arrogant Dunmer were from Morrowind, but he faced his greatest example of such traits not from a Dunmer, who are known to be just as rude to outlander Dunmer as they are to other races, but from an Imperial. Alammus was accused of murdering the mistress of Marcus Exellus, a well-known tradesman in the city, but it seemed that everyone but the guards knew Marcus had done it himself. He wondered if it was the hand of fate that landed him in this position as he was dragged out of his cell to be taken to Morrowind.

As he stared out of the carriage window, he prayed for the guidance of those who raised him. He never knew the Isle of Vvardenfell, having been raised in the Imperial City, but he knew it was possible he may die there. His transport from the prison was a secretive venture, and he did not know what they meant to do with him upon his arrival. He thought it peculiar that they took him to the land of his forefathers without a single word of warning until they reached the dock.

Even during his transport, the dreams continued. He dreamed often of a beautiful elven woman, sleeping upon a burial table like those his parents described to him. Normally, urns filled with the ashes of ancestors would sit on these tables, but this woman replaced them. Her elegant white dress was stained with blood upon her belly, as if she had been freshly impaled by a thick blade. Her skin appeared to be a light yellow sort of color, like a High elf, but she would turn into a Dunmer when he came closer. Alammus felt a deep sense of grief each time this vision recurred, and each time he would move toward her. He saw her dark hair perched atop her head in a high bun, and beside her an outline of dust marked where a bow had been. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but without fail a man in a golden mask would grab him from behind and fight him away. These were the first visions of the man in the mask.

Alammus had seen the woman's face in his youth. He tried to push her from his mind because of his assurances by his mother that such a woman never existed in the histories of the Tribunal. The three godheads of his mother's religion called her Athera in his dreams. They said she was the wife of Voryn Dagoth, the man who would become the Sharmat, Dagoth Ur. She was a ranger and a tribeswoman before her marriage, and each time he saw them together in his dreams, Alammus felt the familiar sting of jealousy in his heart. Part of him loved this apparition of his dreams before he even grew out of adolescence.

He spent little time in Seyda Neen after arriving on Vvardenfell. The city reminded him too much of the villages outlying the Imperial City, and he wanted to feel like he walked among the people his mother loved to tell stories about when he was a child. His feet guided him swiftly along the path to Balmora as if he had walked the lands already. With his mind set on finding Caius Cosades, he found that much of the landscape passed by him. The cliff racers native to the region surrounding Balmora annoyed him, and he hunted the other wildlife for food and alchemic reagents. He stopped often to remove herbs from the sides of the road, determined to put the one skill his mother had taught him besides reading and writing to use. In the right situation, it could be profitable and he knew that any amount of coin could get him through the rough times that awaited him.

He kept a firm grip on his coin purse as he walked toward Balmora, the stilt strider and the three archways into the city coming into his view. Alammus felt a great deal of curiosity sink into him as he made note of the stonework that went into carving the gateways. He wondered if it was even stone, since at that distance anything could look like rock. Perhaps they had formed a grey clay to wooden posts, and he knew that this would have made his father laugh at him. Alammus was always distracted by the wrong things when he came into a city for the first time.

_See the women,_ he would say, _your mother's getting tired of waiting for grandchildren and Almsivi knows you could use a good, Dunmer woman to keep you in check._

"Well father, there will be plenty of good, Dunmer women here," Alammus said aloud.

He passed through the archways and looked to either street that would lead him through Balmora. Either way, he would intend to make a full lap around the city to familiarize himself with his surroundings, but he needed to find Caius Cosades before he could get down to any other business. He did not know where to go exactly, and therefore chose to go into the storefront quarter of the city. Before he even made it around the first building, someone called out to him from behind.

"You look lost. Do you need something?"

Alammus blinked as he turned around and looked toward the stilt strider. A young, Dunmer woman was climbing down the staircase, her chitin helm tucked underneath her arm. Like the woman from his dream, she wore her hair up in a large bun. She seemed friendly enough, and he was sure that this was the woman who had called out to him.

"Uhm, yes actually. I'm looking for Caius Cosades. Do you know where he lives?"

"The Skooma addict? Yeah, he lives in the north east corner of the city, across the river and up the staircase. I can lead you through if you like. Balmora must seem like a strange town at first look," she said.

"I would… like that very much. Thank you."

Alammus approached her as she waited at the base of the staircase, and when he was close enough, she started toward the eastern half of Balmora.

"Town's split into two different sections. The west side has all of the shops and a few inns, but both of them are full of scum. The Nine Plates is full of spineless Hlaalu scoundrels, and the Council Club sees a lot of Cammona Tong activity. The Fighters Guild and Mages Guild are over there too. The eastern side is mostly residential, and there is one corner club. I never go there, though."

"Do you live here?" He asked.

"No, but Balmora is a good place to stop on my way up the Foyada. I like to take a stilt strider from Vivec and walk up the Foyada to get to the Ghostgate-err, you probably don't know much about Vvardenfell, do you? You sound like you're from someplace else."

"I was raised in the Imperial City. My adoptive parents were loyal followers of the Tribunal, so I learned something about the Ghostgate."

They crossed the bridge to the residential half of Balmora, and the woman who lead Alammus along gave a deep hum as she considered what he said.

"I didn't know Dunmer in Cyrodiil still worshipped Almsivi. I thought they would have given into the pressure to worship the Aedra."

"Oh, they received a lot of flak for it from the neighbors, but they stayed true to their heritage," he said.

"That is good to hear. Some say that the Tribunal is losing their power and that Dagoth Ur has almost broken through the Ghostfence. It is disheartening that it is these very rumors that keep me there. Corpus monsters pound on the gate every day, and more and more of them keep appearing," she said.

"Corpus?"

"Some people call it the Divine Disease. It comes from Red Mountain and followers of Dagoth Ur say it is the key to 'shedding our mortal coils'. Needless to say, a lot of those people are never seen again. They are probably the ones that wind up behind the gate."

" You seem to know a lot about it," Alammus said.

"I'm a Buoyant Armiger. We're kind of like the guardians of the Ghostgate," she paused, "Well, there it is, down there at the very end."

She stopped as they finished climbing the final set of stairs to the second tier of homes, and she pointed to the house at the very end of the row. He watched her gestures closely and stared down the lane of smaller homes, making sure to keep his eye on the one she pointed out.

"Thank you, err… Sorry, I didn't catch your name," he said.

"Lethira Indoril, Great House Indoril. If you're ever around the ghostfence, come on by, okay?" she smiled.

"I'll do that. The name's Alammus Arendu of no House in particular."

"Safe travels, Alammus. Vvardenfell can be unforgiving sometimes."

"_Don't you put your sin on me, Almalexia! Don't you put your infidelity on me!" a harsh woman's voice called out as his dream grew clear to him._

_He found himself on this night seated at a grand round table in what appeared to be the Great Hall of a stone fortress like those he dreamed of often but had never truly seen before. To his right was Almalexia, who looked to him just as the drawings in his mother's prayer books portrayed her. She was tall and golden skinned, her red hair kept up high in her crown. To her right was Vivec, who was much different than what his mother described. He had lengthy dark hair, and he was clad in chitin armor. He seemed uncomfortable, and just looking at him made Alammus' stomach drop. He was sure he would knew why as he turned his gaze to the other side of the table. To the left sat the members of the sorcerer Houses, Voryn Dagoth and his wife, both of them a perfect picture of black hair, golden skin, and red clothing. Beside Athera was Sotha Sil who appeared unnerved as the woman next to him stood to face whatever scrutiny had come about._

_Tensions were already high in the room, for he felt this to be a continuation of a dream he had a few short nights ago. Together, they had been discussing the news that Voryn Dagoth had brought with him about the great golem that Kagrenac was building underneathVvardenfell, the great mountain at the center of Resadyn.. He did not remember how such a discussion turned into a personal attack on Athera Dagoth, but it may have stemmed from how often Sotha Sil had been seen in her company since her husband had left for the Dwemer fortress._

"_Voryn deserves to know the kind of woman you are. I know all about your affair with Sotha Sil—"_

"_There was no such affair. Sotha Sil spent his time keeping me company when Voryn and his brothers were away."_

"_Let him confirm that. I'm sure he may speak for himself," said Almalexia._

_The magister of the Tribunal rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he looked at those surrounding the table," Though I value Athera about all other women, I have never put my hands on her. It is as she says. I meant only to spare her from being lonely when the members of her family were away on business for your husband."_

" _Is that good enough for you? Don't you see that you twist facts into outrageous lies so that no one hears of your own infidelity?"_

"_Don't you say it, Athera! You know that I am-"_

"_A lying, cheating, backstabbing whore? Oh yes, I know this very well. I have seen you with Vivec in the very halls Nerevar has shared with you. You slander his good name by lying with his councilor."_

"_How dare you! How dare you!" Almalexia's outrage boiled over, and the Lady of House Indoril stood to launch herself over the table._

"_Stop this! That is enough from both of you!" Vivec stood to grab Almalexia before she could get too close to the Lady Dagoth._

_Athera merely stood triumphant, her arms crossed over her chest. Even to Alammus, Almalexia's outrage was proof enough of the sin she tried to project onto Athera, but still he found himself concerned about the obvious rivalry. He thought back to his earlier dreams, trying to find a reason for the discord somewhere. Did it come from the dreams he had of crossing vast expanses of shoreline in the company of Athera, spending nights with her wrapped up together in a single bedroll when they were much younger? Did it come from the many times he had spoken of Athera's council to her? He shook his head. This priestess of Mephala, the tribeswoman who married Voryn Dagoth, had certainly seen her fair share of House born lovers. He did not blame Almalexia for being wary of her and believing her to use her Daedra given beauty to control the men at the table._

"_Certainly you don't believe this, Nerevar," Almalexia looked to him._

_They called him Nerevar in every dream. He had no control over his actions or his words, but he knew his own feelings to be polluted by how the real person in this moment must feel. Alammus felt nauseated as the man his spirit inhabited began to speak._

"_Tell me truly, Vivec. Does Athera speak the truth? Have you been keeping my wife company during my negotiations with Dumac?"_

_Vivec paused. He looked to Almalexia, whose face was painted with a look of horror. Surely, she saw indecision in his eyes as he looked from his lord to the woman he held still. With a sigh he admitted," Yes. It is true. I am sorry."_

_Alammus' stomach dropped again, but part of him felt relieved. Knowing the truth would always be better than being left in the dark, wouldn't it? He leaned forward and steadied himself against the table, and when Almalexia reached out to touch him, he shrugged her hand away in an almost violent manner. He did not want to be touched by her. The intense feeling of nausea was enough for him to know that he was utterly disgusted by her._

"_May the gods have mercy on you for your infidelity, Almalexia, for you will have none from me. I don't want you to come to my bed anymore. You made your choice."_

_She stared at Alammus with disbelief, as if she could not comprehend how a man whose wife had turned her back on him could deny that same wife his bed. There would be talk, they both knew. With relations between the Chimer and the Dwemer straining at every little problem that arose in Resadyn, what sort of rumors would stir if people found out that the two leaders of House Indoril had all but broken their marriage?_


	2. 2: Signs

The Ghostgate's small temple had been vandalized late in the night, a shock to the Ordinators and Armigers who were stationed there. What was worse was that one of their own had committed this crime, putting blood to stone and reminding all those that would come that dark times were upon the Tribunal Temple.

When Lethira had been awakened by the alarm of her companions as called out for all those who remained in their quarters, she did not know what to expect. The walls just behind the Shrines of the saints had been covered with a message that put the pall of darkness over the room.

_The Lady of Vengeance walks with us again_

_Thrice betrayed by mer,_

_Twice by mortals, and soon by false gods._

_Thrice born to walk upon Nirn_

_Twice to flesh, and soon to ash._

_Where she is blind_

_The Father will open her eyes._

_The lies of the Betrayers lay bare,_

_The Lady hears us._

_Come home, Mother!_

_Guardian, Protector, Queen!_

_Lady whose blood feeds the ash,_

_She who is blood, power, and glory!_

_We hear you! We see you!_

_The Sixth House calls to you._

_Come home!_

None of it made sense to her. Lethira had seen the scribbling and heard the frantic ravings of those inflicted with soul sickness, but this was something new. Never had she seen a fellow Bouyant Armiger fall victim quite like this, and the writings he had put to the walls of the Ghostgate Temple late in the night disturbed her. Neldam Llevru had been a good friend to her, a loyal companion on many of her journeys beyond the Ghostfence. He had killed two pilgrims in silence, and he used their blood to commit these strange thoughts to the walls of the Temple. Now, he faced persecution in the Ministry of Truth. This was more than what was usually called soul sickness. They called his ravings unnatural, as if soul sickness had ever been natural.

They found him unconscious just beneath his peculiar work, the bodies of his victims lying nearby. He awoke with no memory of the incident as most sufferers often do, but the Ordinators would take no precautions. Pilgrims had been killed, and the Ghostgate was meant to be a safe haven for those seeking to visit the Shrine.

Any other incident would not involve a 'Lady', and rarely would the incident include the deaths of pilgrims. They would not have taken him away. They would have searched his quarters and removed anything suspicious before setting him down with a capable priest. She had heard stories of good, Tribunal worshipping Mer who broke down in the streets to proclaim Dagoth Ur their lord and master, but never once did they speak of a woman called the Lady of Vengeance. She could only guess that it was meant to be a direct opposite for Almalexia, the Tribunal's Lady of Mercy. These frantic scribbles did nothing to quell her fears.

The dreams she had experienced since she was just a little girl had grown in frequency. When she had told her father, a Councilor of House Indoril who served in Vivec City, he had immediately taken her to the city's namesake. She remembered being told that her dreams were a product of soul sickness that rested with her parents. Both her father and her mother denied such accusations, but despite everything, Vivec had insisted that they remain nearby. Lethira visited the godhead often all throughout her life, and his assurances of her false dreams long lessened her worry.

The more she heard of the spreading soul sicknesses and the more she felt the Sharmat walking with her in her dreams, the less she was inclined to believe. Her run in with that Outlander Alammus Arendu had only sparked a greater fear. He reminded her so much of the vision her mind had named Nerevar that she could not resist calling out to him when she saw him going into Balmora. Everything she thought she believed in was slowly crumbling away, but her heart was still with the Tribunal.

What disturbed her more was the fact that she had put Neldam's words to paper, keeping them close to her heart until she might reach Vivec City. If anyone could make her feel better about this, it would be her God, but her emotions regarding the strange turn of events only magnified what she already knew. Vvardenfell was changing. Dagoth Ur was getting stronger and the Tribunal was getting weaker. They were scared. She was scared, and what peace existed on the island was fragile.

What if the Sixth House kept getting out of the Ghostfence? She had already investigated several 'shrines' outside of the territory surrounding Red Mountain, brimming with Ash Slaves and corpus creatures, all servants to Dagoth Ur in their madness. How long would it take them to start moving with tactical purpose, capturing cities all along the path to Vivec? Would they bring the fight to the Tribunal, or would they wait it out?

She chose to first visit Neldam where the Ordinators had locked him away. They would wait for others to come for him since their ranks were low for that time of year, many of those who were stationed at the gate gone to see their families. They let her into the tiny room with little argument, knowing that whatever she found out here would reach the ears of the Archcanon in Vivec. If she could see their faces, she would have believed the two men to show her their worry. Their voices shaked, and they both assured her that they would answer to her call for help.

When she looked at Neldam, she did not think she would ever have to call for the Ordinators. He looked worn out, his red eyes sunken in like those of a man who had not seen sleep in a long time. He lay on the floor rather than in his bed, as if the stone floor would hinder his rest and keep him from slumber. Perhaps he feared sleep in case he would commit such atrocities again, or maybe he feared what would come in the Ministry of Truth. As soon as his eyes fell upon her, he sat up and his fear was visible.

"By Almsivi, Lethira! Please, please get me out of this. I don't know what happened. I never had any dreams before, and now this? You can't let them take me to the Ministry!"

"Neldam, please. Calm down."

Lethira kneeled before him and reached out to him with gentle hands. He seemed to welcome her touch, as if her mercy was all he really needed.

"I know you report to Vivec directly. Just, please, tell him what you saw. Tell him what I did. If what I did can help against them at all, he'll know what to do. I just don't want to die for this. What do they even do to the people that go to the Ministry?"

She sighed softly, "Did you have any dreams before you woke up in the Temple? Was there anything else?"

Lethira pitied the man, but what she really needed was information. She would try to plead mercy for him, for until this day she had known him to be one of the Tribunal's most steadfast guardians. Together that had killed many of Dagoth Ur's followers. They had stopped assaults upon pilgrims and pushed back corpus monsters that threatened the gates and never once did he waver. What made him do so now?

He looked away from her then, and he shrank from her touch. His retreat led him to the corner of the room, where he had pushed a small nightstand away. It lay tumbled over now, a reminder that all had not returned to normal.

"They want you, Lethira. I don't know what they want, but they want something. I kept hearing your name, and another name too. A-A… Something with an A. It sounded so much like your name but I couldn't tell myself that it was only your name he spoke to me. Dagoth Ur—he was the one speaking to me. He took me by the arm, down into this peculiar crypt. There were dwemer machinations everywhere, or at least I think they were dwemer, and they were protecting someone. A woman. She looked like you, and she was bleeding from this wound in her stomach. The ground all around her was red with her blood. The Sharmat demanded vengeance."

It was Lethira's turn to shake. She had dreams of lying awake on a stone bed, a great wound in her belly. She could never move, only hear and see what was around her. Sometimes she saw Sotha Sil visiting her, and more recently, she saw Alammus Arendu. They would come to visit her, and then there would be fighting. Until this moment she could never really guess who they were fighting, but now she knew.

"You're sure about this? Was she dead?"

"She _looked _dead, but her wound was fresh and she bled like a woman living."

"what kind of wound was it? A sword wound?" Lethira asked.

"Yes. It looked like someone had stabbed her before they laid her to rest."

Each word that Neldam spoke to her left Lethira feeling uneasy. She looked away from him as she stood, and she briefly considered what this could mean. Was this confirmation of everything she had ever experienced in her dreams? Had it been Vivec that lied to her? Or was this something else?

"Wait, Lethira! Before you go, promise me you won't go up the mountain again. Not once more."

* * *

The Ash storm that briefly interrupted her path from the Ghostgate to Vivec was a gentle one, thwarted by the steep cliffs of the Foyada. Much of the ash that danced through the air around her was lifted high and away, her vision clear enough that she did not feel the need to wait out the storm. She decided that her path would take her to Balmora to ride the stilt strider rather than walk the whole way to her destination, but she hoped that this choice would cross her path with that of Alammus Arendu.

Several weeks had passed since she first met him, and yet her mind often wandered into thoughts of him. She hoped that Vvardenfell treated him well and gave him a clear path. He seemed to have no destination but that of Caius Cosades home, and certainly no great fortune or work awaited him there. She should have given him better directions to the Fighter's Guild. He could have used the work. Perhaps he had gone to Ald'ruhn to pursue House Redoran, the proper place for a warrior. House Indoril would never open their arms to an outlander unless by marriage, and Redoran was less discriminant.

_Marriage._ An uncomfortable pressure came to her chest as she thought of the word, a subtle reminder of her younger sister's circumstances. She did not know what possessed Nadine to become engaged to Varvur Sarethi, but her close proximity to Ghostgate must have had at least something to do with it. Nadine hated Vivec and always had. Ald'ruhn would get her close to the very place her elder sister spent almost all of her time, and Lethira should have been happy for that. She missed her younger sister, the good one without the cursed dreams, the daughter pursuing the noble life. So sweet and innocent, she worried for her. Nadine was not used to the ash. Nadine could get hurt.

And maybe Lethira would be hurt as well. Neldam's words stuck with her as she walked, reminding her more and more of the changing circumstances surrounding her dreams. He had warned her against returning the work she had done so well, as if there would be more danger from that day forward, but hadn't things already changed? The ash slaves were more aware of her passing ever since she came back from her last visit to Vivec. They would turn their heads and stare at her. Some of the ash priests who would normally launch themselves into an attack had grown docile until she made the first move. They watched her come and go, and Lethira found that this frightened her more than fighting them.

Lethira tried to shake these thoughts from her mind as she passed through the archway into Balmora. Where would she find Alammus if he had decided to make a name for himself in Balmora? Maybe she should look for him in the exact place she had left him. If anyone knew where to find him, it would be Caius. She did not look forward to meeting the Skooma addict.

She could smell the skooma leaking out from home as she knocked upon the door. She waited a moment before she called out the Imperial's name, bracing herself for whatever she may find.

"Caius? Caius Cosades? May I speak to you?"

The older man that answered the door may have passed for someone noble if he were dressed properly. Somehow, his intoxication had not gotten in the way of taking care of his deeply grey hair, and the look on his face betrayed no wild thoughts or ideas.

"Hm? Are you looking for me, Dunmer?"

"I am, actually. I was wondering if you had seen Alammus Arendu recently? Several weeks ago, I helped him find your apartment and—"

"Yeah, I've seen the kid. He'll probably be back in town today. He's been doing work for the Fighter's Guild. I can send him your way if you're looking to stay in town for the night."

"Uhm, yes please. I would like that very much. I will be at the Temple. Thank you."

* * *

_Kogoruhn looked a lot different surrounded on all sides by tribal yurts and trade caravans, much of Athera's kinsman having arrived for the wedding of their representative to Mephala and Lord Voryn Dagoth. There existed a great amount of doubt about the legitimacy of their impending marriage for many of the tribesman believed it to be a purely political affair. With their hunting grounds nestled squarely in the center of Kogoruhn's influence, this could certainly have been the case, but with each passing day, those that doubted the couple saw them differently. Separate, Athera and Voryn Dagoth were quiet, determined people. Together, they chattered on about anything and were visibly happier. This bode well for Athera's tribe. A healthy marriage between the two of them meant a healthy trade route with House Dagoth._

_Nerevar Indoril and his wife Almalexia were the first of the guests that came from the Great Houses. Ever since the Hortator had heard of his friend's engagement to the tribal beauty, even he had his doubts. Nerevar's relationship with Athera went back into his adolescence, and he had known her to always be wild and unrestrained. The life she would lead as the wife of a Lord High Councilor would be the exact opposite of what she always told him she wanted. He had never been more surprised in his life the first time he saw the two of them together._

_At the top of the steps to Kogoruhn's platform, Neverar caught sight of his old friends. The smile that crawled across the normally stoic expression of Voryn Dagoth seemed to be given life by the woman beside him. He always smiled at the sight of Nerevar's approach but never as large and as happily as he did that day. Athera smiled too, leaning her head against Voryn's shoulder. She had taken to wearing the colors House Dagoth was widely known for, and the dark red dress suited her well. Perhaps he had been wrong about them._

_As he climbed the stairs with his wife close behind, he reached out to take his friend's arm, pulling him in for a brotherly hug," It's good to see you again, Voryn. I am glad to see you are well."_

"_And it is good to see you as well, old friend. Thank you for coming a little earlier than the others. I thought you could use the relaxation after the last round of negotiations with the Dwemer."_

_Nerevar spoke as he let go of Voryn's arm and reached out to embrace Athera._

" _I certainly can use this time to my advantage," he turned his attention to the woman who returned his hug," Good afternoon, Athera."_

" _Good afternoon. You look a lot different," Athera said._

"_As do you, little Scamp," Nerevar grinned at her as he called her by her childhood nickname," the years have been kind to you. It's wonderful to know that I will be seeing you much more often now."_

_The last time he saw her, Athera was covered head to toe in the blood of a group of Nords who had attacked her tribe during the war. She killed about seven of them before chasing them onto their ship and forcing them to take to sea again, and she probably would have tried to swim after them if Voryn had not grabbed onto her and refused to let her go. She fought him hard, and she cried and screamed and kicked at him until she just went limp in his arms and wept. Those Nords had killed her little sister and her father, and she had been blinded by vengeance._

_That unpleasant emotion had faded from her since then. With their war against the Invaders ending in victory, he had thought she would go back to carrying out Mephala's will and spreading his word to her kin. Instead, she had decided to marry the man who kept her from drowning herself in an attempt to chase down the people who had attacked her tribe. He wondered how many years it took for his childhood friend to convince his childhood love to marry him, and he wondered if the Nords' attack on Athera's tribe could be blamed for this strange turn of events. He found himself to be unhappy, and yet…_

_She was happier now than he had ever seen her._

"_Don't call me that," she chided, breaking out of his hug to swat him playfully," only my mother and my brother may call me that anymore, and you are neither."_

"_Thank the Gods I'm not your mother. That would be peculiar!"_

_A laugh was shared all around, but deep down, Nerevar felt the sting of jealousy as he watched Athera gravitate back to her fiancé. He supposed that he deserved this after choosing to marry Almalexia for political gain rather than trying to take Athera as his wife when they were much younger. Would she have been as happy with him as she now seemed to be with Voryn? He loved the brightness behind her smile and the way she glowed in the presence of the Dagoth Councilor, but that did little to lessen the twinge of discomfort he felt just by being around them when they were together. Something between them had renewed Athera's faith and tamed her considerably, but she did not seem to miss what she was leaving behind at all. Voryn Dagoth gave her whatever she asked for and things she did not even need, and they were blissful. Nerevar could never love or be loved by Almalexia like that, as he had come to the conclusion years ago that their relationship was empty. He suspected there were others who populated her bed in his place but never knew for sure, and sooner or later, someone would confirm his suspicions._

_Was he jealous of the fact that his oldest friend would soon be marrying a woman he once and still did admire? Or was he jealous of how happy they were?_

_Beside him, Almalexia had already determined her opinion of the future Lady Dagoth. Too friendly with her husband. Too careful about the way she spoke and moved. She hated how calculated the tribeswoman had become, as if she had always belonged among the politics of the First Council. She wondered if all of this came from some kind of preparations that Voryn Dagoth had counciled her about. Athera's close friendship with Sotha Sil would prove to be exploitable, or at least that is what Almalexia hoped. She wanted to see her crumbled, for she feared more than anything that this woman would turn the tide in the Council chambers away from House Indoril._

* * *

Alammus had never taken off in a sprint toward a place of worship in his life, but Caius' encouraging reminder that a Dark Elven woman had been looking for him and asked that he visit Balmora's Temple was enough to distract him from the dream he had early that morning.

He realized that his dreams were picking up in frequency since he arrived on Vvardenfell. The night after he met the Armiger, Lethira Indoril, he dreamt of the dead woman in her tomb and the golden masked man who fought him away. He could not get over how similar Lethira looked to this woman, and he felt like the dream was prolonged as he stared, trying to convince himself that the woman was not Lethira.

Since he started gathering information for Caius Cosades about the Sixth House and the Nerevarine from researchers in Balmora, his dreams were interrupted by visions of the man in the golden mask. Each time he saw him, Alammus woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest out of fear. He knew this was Dagoth Ur, and his dreams from his childhood taught him to fear retaliation for the things that had occurred. Many times he had killed this man in his dreams. Many times he had watched Athera Dagoth die in front of them both.

His path to carve out a home to call his parents back to had lead him to Ald-ruhn and into Great House Redoran, yet he had not seen Lethira in the city at all. He thought of scaling the difficult climb to Red Mountain and looking for her at the Ghostfence, but he did not trust himself in the terrain. He was barely comfortable with the brief forays he had to make into the Ashlands just to reach some of Redoran's quieter, nicer territories.

Until he had arrived at Caius' home with the information he needed from the informants in Vivec, little else had mattered. He hoped that this woman was the very Armiger he had hoped to see in the city. He admitted that his obsession with her was less than healthy. Perhaps it was because she was the first Dunmer he had met on the isle that cared to give him any thought. She helped him with a very simple task and went on her way almost without mentioning her name, and yet he wanted to know more about her. He wanted to know if she shared his dreams, and more than that, he wanted to know if she had any kind of connection to the woman named Athera Dagoth.

Alammus could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he believed himself far too eager to find the woman who had called for him. Lethira could be the only woman who would ask him to find her at the temple, and he found her in one of the rooms that likely belonged to the resident priest. She had kept herself busy with a number of books, scattered open before her as she took notes from them upon a once clean sheet of parchment. Another piece of parchment lay unfolded on top of one of the books, and she did not seem to notice his arrival.

"Lethira, right? I'm glad you came looking for me when you arrived in Balmora. I was hoping I might see you on my travels for House Redoran, but no such luck until I came back to do some work for the Fighter's Guild."

She looked up from her work at the sound of his voice, and the smile that crossed her face lightened Alammus' heart. She was glad to see him.

"I haven't left the Ghostgate very much during the time I've been working, but I suspect I will see you much more often since you are part of House Redoran. I'm pleased to see that you are doing well for yourself in Vvardenfell," Lethira said.

"It's not so bad once you get used to the ashstorms. . . Will you be in Ald-ruhn a lot for the Temple?"

"No, no. My sister is marrying Varvur Sarethi next month, and she has asked that I visit her at every opportunity. I will be glad to oblige her. It feels like I never see her enough when I leave for Vivec City."

Alammus had only recently met Varvur Sarethi, but he knew almost immediately that when he was rescued, the man had every reason to be glad. Varvur had gone on and on about needing to write to his bride-to-be as they made the brief walk back to Sarethi Manor, and Alammus believed fortune smiled on him if that bride was Lethira's sister. It meant he would have greater opportunities to be around the Armiger, for his friendship with the Sarethi family was only growing.

"I've been doing a lot of work for his family, so I believe we will be running into each other much more often," Alammus said.

Lethira smiled gently as she closed her books and began to pack them away. She did not speak for a moment, as if she were contemplating what to say next. He hoped that she would not have to leave as quickly as before; she had asked for him after all. He wanted more than anything to go with her, to take her out for a drink and having something to write home about. Alammus did not understand the kind of forces that were at work here in Vvardenfell or what his dreams met when he saw Lethira's face. He demanded answers, and when he got to know her better, perhaps he would get them.

"That's good. There are a few things I would like to discuss with you though, but not here. Maybe we could go somewhere to get a drink?"

Alammus could not control the grin that crossed his face at the lady's suggestion as he answered," Of course. I am at your service."


	3. 3: Reunion

Lethira lead him to the South Wall Corner Club, insisting on avoiding both the Nine Plates and the Council Club. It appeared that she would rather be seen in the company of thieves than members of the Cammona Tong and House Hlaalu. Alammus knew little of Lethira's prejudices or what influenced her decision, but he trusted that she had her reasons. Together, they took a table in a corner of South Wall, and there they shared a bottle of Sujamma.

They remained quiet for a long time, Lethira staring into her glass as she pondered what to say to him. She wanted to ask him immediately about any dreams he may have been having. Deep down, she demanded answers to all of the questions she had after she left the Ghostgate very early that morning. Lethira did not know who had her answers for her, but she could find them nowhere in the forbidden texts that a dear friend of her's at Balmora's Temple had hidden away for her.

Alammus had a stoic appearance in his great set of steel armor. He looked like a strong, proud warrior of House Redoran, and she knew him to fill this role well. She could see callouses on his hands from his training with a sword and the scratches upon his armor from the grazing of a weapon against the metal. His face held no scars to tell tales of his battles, but she believed that the rest of him had plenty of stories to tell. She knew the peculiar mix of wounded vanity and pride when it came to battle wounds that left their mark.

"Do you know much about Vvardenfell's history, Alammus?" She finally asked.

"No, not really. My mother used to tell me stories and legends about the Tribunal, but that's it."

"I suppose that's all you really need to know for my question. Did they ever talk about Dagoth Ur's wife?"

The silence that wedged between them at the end of her question was palpable. It created a tension that was visible upon both of them. Shock fell over the warrior's face and for a moment, Lethira believed her heart had stopped beating. He seemed so surprised by her question, and his eyes darted back and forth as if he were searching for an answer.

Could this really be transpiring between them? Had the gods taken to making a mockery out of him? He decided that if he were ever going to have answers to give, Lethira would hear them. She seemed rather eager to hear his thoughts.

"No. My mother said that such a woman was not real, but I've had dreams," he paused," Have you had dreams too, Lethira?"

She did not answer his question right away, but rather scrambled into her pack in search of the piece of paper that had Neldam's message scribbled onto it. She held this paper out to him, and waited for him to take it.

"There was a man at the Ghostgate who wrote this on the Temple walls. We've never had anyone talk about a woman so prominent in Great House Dagoth. It's the first time I've ever seen mention of it anyway."

Alammus took the paper from her and read the message carefully. The color seemed to draw out of his face, once more confirming to her in body language what he had spoken to her. He had dreams about the woman who would fit that description. He knew who their Mother, their Lady of Vengeance was.

"I don't understand why you're sharing this with me. Isn't this information you shouldn't be sharing with people outside of the Temple, much less someone you hardly know?" Alammus sighed.

"I think we know each other better than we think. I have had dreams, Alammus. I dream of being in a burial chamber, unable to move and bleeding profusely from my stomach. I have dreamt of Nerevar and Sotha Sil attempting to visit me, and each time stopped by the Sharmat. I have heard the name Athera Dagoth too many times to count and too many times have I been told that everything I have dreamed over and over again is a lie. I don't believe that anymore. Not after what happened at the Ghostgate."

She nearly snatched the paper from his hands then, putting it back into her bag. Lethira turned to her glass of sujamma again, unwilling to say anymore. As he had for nearly their whole conversation, Alammus took a long while to formulate a reply. He must have been as uncomfortable and uncertain as she was.

"I've had dreams of a woman like you, lying in a burial chamber. I have tried to reach out to her several times, but I always wake up when I am fighting Dagoth Ur."

Alammus took a drink from his glass and reached across the table to grab a hold of her hand. She allowed him this gesture, and she stared across the table at him. They looked at each other from behind their glasses, allowing silence to file in once more. There was comfort in this moment, a time to think on how their paths were crossing and what this may mean for them.

"I do not know what is at work here. This is only the second time in my waking life that I have ever seen you, but this feels important to me. These dreams have been one of the few constant things in my life. I remember having them when I was living in the orphanage, Lethira, long before I ever knew who the Tribunal were and where Vvardenfell was. I want answers, and whatever god has led me here to Morrowind—to you—is trying to give me those answers. We can find them together, if you're comfortable. I understand that this is strange—"

"You don't have to say anymore. I want answers too. I know that I don't have soul sickness. These dreams are not a curse. They mean something. If you have time, come with me to Vivec. I have to go collect my sister and travel with her and my brother to Ald-ruhn, and I need to report to the Archcanon with this message. I may be able to get some answers from Vivec with this."

" Sure, I'll come with you. . .Wait, you report directly to Vivec himself?" Alammus let out a sort of chuckle, tinged with disbelief.

"wha—why, yes I do. I have known him all my life, and it's because of my dreams that I was ever brought to him in the first place. My father believed I was cursed."

"Are you cursed?" Alammus asked.

"No. I am not," Lethira said.

"Well good, because I'm told you can get that sort of thing taken care of at a Tribunal shrine, and I would think it odd if you had never thought of that after all these years serving them," a smile crawled across his lips as he joked, trying to relieve the tension that had built in the air around them.

"Let's finish this sujamma and be on our way."

Alammus nodded as he quickly drank what remained of his glass and reached for the bottle," agreed. I have business in the city myself, and it's always much nicer to have a travelling companion."

_Ashen faces were staring at her again. Men and women all, their eyes carved out and hollow. They did not need to have eyes for her to know that their attention was on her. They were surrounding her, some of them with arms outstretched. Whispers came from these people, but their mouths did not move as they closed in around her. They had driven her to her knees, allowing her no hope or vision beyond their circle. She could feel their hands upon her, an uncomfortable heat like the cool side of a smoldering coal. They demanded her return. They told her to stay where she was._

_A pair of hands hotter still than those of the ashen figures around her wrapped their fingers underneath her shoulders and lifted her up, an almost scalding heat so intense that she was shaken from her fear by adrenaline. She wanted to run, but there was no escaping those that had gathered around her. She did not have to see a golden mask to know who had lifted her from her knees. Dagoth Ur had come to her in her dreams again, blotting out any other visions that she may have experienced that night. He demanded her attention. He would not be ignored, and he would not allow her to stir from her dreams._

Do you hear us, Athera? Your husband and your people call to you. It is time to come home. Lies will cradle you no longer.

_She knew that voice, a powerful and haunting tone that often woke her from sleep, leaving her to scream when she was alone. This time, she did not awake. The voice did not increase her fear. It was nearly soothing in the innumerable crowd of Blight stricken people around her._

Vivec is false. All of this mortal life he has lied to you, pretending to shelter you. He values you not. You are but a weapon to him, a tool. You have feared this for a long time, I know. Come to us. You will have your answers.

_One by one, the ash slaves that had surrounded them began to peel away, disappearing into a blackness that Lethira had grown accustomed to in these sorts of dreams. It continued like this in silence until there was only her and the searing hot hands holding her on her shoulders. Dagoth Ur's voice echoed through the darkness again._

Home is waiting for you. Your family waits for you.

Family. She had family. Her sister Nadine was getting married in just a week. Her brother, Tedril Indoril, was a Hand of Almalexia, taking leave for the first time in many months to be with his sisters on Nadine's special day. Her mother had gone away from Vivec when their father had passed away, choosing to return home, to the Ahemussa Ashlanders, where she would not be judged for her passive role in a religious household. She would arrive in Ald-ruhn on the same day as her children. Her family would be meeting her in Ald-ruhn, not on Red Mountain.

And yet, she knew she had never felt more at home than she did in the Ashlands. She prided herself on how she never lost her footing as she climbed the mountain. She knew every secret path and each crevice to climb toward for an easier ascent. Lethira could hear the voices of the Ash slaves over the howling storms so clearly that she sometimes tried to boast that she had never been caught. Of course, she had been found several times. More than once she had killed many, many of Dagoth Ur's followers. They were not her family. She did not kill family members.

She could see the Cantons rising out of the waters to the very south of Vvardenfell as the stilt strider drew closer to their destination, the early morning rays of the sun painting each canton. She had waked from her disturbing dream calmly, but nearby, Alammus was taking full advantage of his nap. His sleep was so deep that she may have thought him dead, if not for the rising and falling of his chest. Their driver had been quiet throughout the ride, and he did not seem to mind that they took to sleep straight away.

She thought to wake him, but unlike her, his sleep was sound and undisturbed. His dreams were pleasant that morning, the smile upon his face clear as the morning light that surrounded him. She wondered if he was dreaming about Athera and her brief relationship with Nerevar. Her dreams were rarely the set of such scenes, for her mind could never shake the simpler times Athera had shared with Voryn Dagoth.


End file.
